


all the good in me belongs in you

by TurntechLoveThis (angelcult)



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Autistic Dave Strider, Child Abuse, Gen, Healing, Past Child Abuse, Running Away, Sad with a Happy Ending, Slice of Life, Therapy, getting better, open but implied happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:08:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23059777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelcult/pseuds/TurntechLoveThis
Summary: After Dave runs away, Bro has to unlearn his ways if he wants his brother back, and Dave wants to heal, that’s all he’s wanted since the beginning.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 40





	all the good in me belongs in you

**Author's Note:**

> Please heed the tags! There is a briefly descriptive abuse scene starting with the words “when Bro was ten” and ending with the words “he hadn’t spoken” if you wish to skip it.

* * *

Looking into the mirror, it was like looking at a snapshot of Bro’s own father. 

It wasn’t as if he’d really known his father throughout his childhood of being shipped from one foster and group home to another, but he knows that he has his anger in his bright orange eyes. 

Donning his shades, Bro licked his lips that were only a little dry, thanks to the constancy of the Texas’ dry air, and hid himself away. Now, he wasn’t looking at his father but instead, he found himself looking at a goddamn coward. It wasn’t his fault (except it was, at least partially) that he was this way.

Angry, spiteful, he was so damn _bitter._

Leaving the bathroom, still half-dressed with only sweats and a damp towel thrown around his shoulders. The hall was empty, even devoid of the usual spare smuppet laying around, and oddly enough, he hadn’t even seen Cal this morning. Not that he often questions the puppet’s whereabouts, half the time _he_ didn’t even move him.

His eyes scanned the hall coolly, but he very rarely expected sneak attacks from Dave, he’d hear him coming. Shrugging off the strange emptiness as nothing more than Dave having decided to clean up. 

Meandering into the kitchen, Bro paused at the lack of a certain albino that he was more than used to seeing, scanning the kitchen, before his eyes fell on the note that was left on the table. 

He could read Dave’s chicken scratch with ease, but that didn’t mean he _understood._

  
  


_Bro, I don’t care if you read this ironically or not or if you don’t care but I had to go. I can’t stay there right now. I went up to D.C. and I’m only telling you because I know you don’t care enough to follow me or whatever._

_I’ll probably come back in a few weeks or never._

_That’s up to you but I think we both know what the answer is._

_-D.S_

  
  


It’s written hard and dark, some lines had slight tears in them from where the pen had pressed down too hard.

Bro had his father’s anger, but Dave? He had _Bro’s._

He didn’t react to the letter at first, reread it twice and then once more, just to give his eyes something to do. 

“Tha’ li’l fuckin’ bitch.” Bro gritted the words out, marred by his thick accent and his anger, and the want to wring his brother’s neck like a goddamn towel that had been sitting out in the rain.

He stood, slamming the chair out of place and sending it careening to the ground, and his sword followed, slicing the chair in half and then into quarters, he was livid.

“I shelter, take care o’ and train his li’l ass for sixteen goddamn years and this is how repays me? Fuckin’ _runs off like a coward-_ “ He’ll ignore the hypocrisy, stew in the burn in his chest and in his head.

He’ll say some things he regrets before he asks if Dave got his cowardice nature from the same place he got his anger from. 

“Should’a left his ass to fuckin..” And he stops, because as pissed and spiteful as he is right now, he never actually questioned if saving Dave or leaving him to die was a bad idea. 

Closing his eyes, Bro ripped the shades from his face and stared at his own reflection in them, he could see the betrayal in his eyes. Tried to stamp it down, but upon remembering that he was all alone in this apartment, let the emotion stay.

Screw irony.

* * *

John’s dad was everything that Dave’s bro was not. Once he set eyes on Dave, shivering from the cold and too thin to be healthy, he pulled him inside and started on a meal.

Dave was glad that he didn’t ask any questions, wasn’t sure if he could have said anything without spilling it all. 

He was on his third bowl of beef stew when John finally said something instead of watching him eat, after his father had given them some privacy. 

“He’s a child social worker.” John started slowly, watching as Dave shoveled another bite into his mouth. He wanted to ask the last time he’d eaten something that wasn’t take-out but he wasn’t sure he’d like the answer he’d get. 

“Who?”

“My dad.”

Dave swallowed the mouthful of broth and vegetables, set the spoon into the now empty bowl and turned towards John.

“And you decided to tell me this after I ate three bowls of food, showed up out of the woodwork-“

“He’s not going to call anyone but you _definitely_ can’t lie to him or he will. You need to be transparent with him. It’s kind of his _job._ ” 

Dave frowned, suddenly feeling uncomfortably full and sick. 

“And if I tell him anything?” 

John shrugged, eyes flickering between the table and Dave’s hands that were gripping the wood, nails digging in. 

“He gonna stick me in a foster home?”

John shrugged again, but he knew the answer.

_Yes._

* * *

Bro didn’t ever actually venture into Dave’s room. It was similar to how Dave never went into his, they both knew that the other’s bedroom was off-limits. 

Being in his brother’s bedroom was uncomfortable, to say the least. It was very _Dave._ The turntables he’d gotten him for his twelfth birthday were still there, looking as clean and cared for as the day they were taken out of the box. 

The bed was made, the whole room was too clean for a teenage boy with a streak of angst and anger. 

Bro grunted, still unused to walking around so freely without his shades, as he came to a conclusion. 

It was planned, this whole “running away with a note as my only thank you and goodbye” that Dave was pulling, had been carefully planned. Bro knew that Dave had a friend in D.C., some blue-eyed nerd with glasses and a taste for bad movies.

He’s heard Dave talking to him, sometimes unaware of how loud he was in the midst of conversation and extended metaphors. 

It made a flare of burning heat light up in his chest every time he thought about the stunt that was being pulled right now. He could run Dave through with his sword right now and he knew he’d regret hurting him that badly but he was also surprised at the amount of aggression and anger being pushed towards him.

Sure, he knew that he was reasonably mad about Dave up and leaving but this anger felt so much more deeper and volatile, so much more aggressive than it should be.

Hadn’t he ran away from those foster homes before? Gone for days, coming back to groundings and beatings but he never thought he’d have reacted that way.

As a kid, you’re never sure how you’d react to something like running away, when you had those fantasies of being a responsible adult with kids who you’d never hit or yell at or lock away. 

Swallowing his pride, Bro felt the anger in his chest diminish a little as he allowed himself a bit of introspection. 

The moment the thought even crossed his mind, he pushed it away. He had his father’s anger and temper but no, he was nothing like those people who'd hurt _him_ in his youth, was he?

No.

He wasn’t the best parent but fuck, he was a good one.

Right?

  
  


Bro had eaten alone before many times, he’d gone without, but sitting at the table that now only had one chair, the blond realized how much of a void Dave filled in his life until there was no one sitting across from him.

Putting the bowl of half eaten Pad Thai down, Bro stared dejectedly at the empty space, feeling like all the echelons of irony and cool he’d built around himself was crumbling to the ground. 

All because of one boy. 

Bro liked to think that he didn’t depend on anyone, that his brother was just the kid who he allowed to stay after he saved him from a crater in the ground, covered in soot and cold in the Texan winter. 

But deeper down, the part of himself that he rarely ever allowed to truly feel, knew that Dave had probably saved him too. 

Without all that damn irony (he was starting to loathe it all, the irony and the pretending to be cool), he was just a man. A man full of vitriol and anger and he found himself on the very edge of spiraling.

Dave hadn’t even been gone a day, and he was already in shambles. He was throwing his own pity party like he had the right to. If he was being honest, he was surprised he hadn’t left him earlier. 

* * *

Dave didn’t really sleep, John learned after he gave him the guest room. He packed light, just his clothes in a book bag and what was on his person. 

Their rooms were right beside each other and while the walls weren’t thin, John could hear his relentless pacing.

In the morning, he looked tired, but never any more tired than he’d looked the day before. 

Today, he’d stayed awake until three and then napped till seven, John wasn’t sure how anyone could stay vertical with such little sleep, but Dave had always been a little strange. 

John and his father were in the kitchen when Dave wondered in, his eyes hidden behind shades and his lips downturned in a frown, that seemed to be his usual expression if his face wasn’t completely blank.

“Good morning, David, I was just making some chocolate chip pancakes.” James greeted brightly, smiling softly as the boy sat down at the kitchen island. 

“Hey, Mr. E. ‘Sup, John.” He placed his phone on the table, screen up. 

John found himself observing his friend, hands fidgeting in his lap and even with the shades, it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that he was glancing at his phone repeatedly as well.

“Are you uh, are you waiting for someone to call?” John asked, accepting the plate of pancakes his dad gave him. Dave took his with a slight nod before he looked back at John, who was watching him with wide blue eyes.

“No.” Dave said bluntly before glancing back at the phone and then looking at John head-on. “Yeah, I’m uh.. I was hoping that Bro would call.. It's been a few days now..” 

James frowned a little as he sat down at the table, looking between the two boys. His son had a soft, sad look on his face but Dave’s face was as blank as his voice. 

“Probably thinks it’s too goddamn ironic to make sure I’m not dead in a ditch somewhere.” 

James swallowed down the want to scold him for the swearing, he could tell Dave needed someone to just listen. 

He’d talked with John the day of Dave’s arrival, and was shocked to find out not only was this planned in advance by the two boys, but it had been a plan ever since Dave’s fifteenth birthday.

  
  


_“Dad, he just.. Dave’s brother is bad news. He hurts him and strifes-“_

_“Strife?” James had interrupted, eyebrow raised and John nodded, suddenly looking a little more uncomfortable._

_“They fight, like, I guess he’s training him? Sword fighting, hand to hand combat.. Everything.” John explained and James’ eyes had widened a little, and he glanced towards the hall that led upstairs, where their guest was resting._

_“John, you are aware that even though I’m not from the Texas department, this is enough for me to take it in, right?”_

_John’s eyes had went wide and he’d shook his head, putting a finger to his lips._

_“Dad! Don’t, please- we can’t.. send Dave to a foster home, can we just, can we just let him stay for a little while?”_

  
  


That conversation had been two days ago, and Dave was finally showing some _real_ discomfort with the situation.

“Should I call him instead? God, he probably blocked my number and I’m acting like-“

“David,” James gently cut him off, and he tried for a smile that he hoped was comforting. 

“Give it some time. Either he will call, or he won’t. Give yourself some time too.” 

Dave seemed to be staring at him from behind his shades. He almost felt unnerved by the inability to see his eyes, then Dave nodded, just slightly. 

It wasn’t a natural motion, it seemed like it was something that had been learned, seen and then mimicked to perfection.

James wondered how much of Dave was him pretending to be just like his brother. 

* * *

  
When Bro was ten, his father had locked him in his bedroom closet for hours on end. He’d screamed and cried and begged to be let out. He screamed until he could taste blood and it had hurt to even breathe.

He’d been left all day, when his mom got home and found him, huddled in the back, completely silent. 

He hadn’t spoken for at least three months after that, and when he did, it was only ever to his mother.

Bro wondered if that’s what Dave had felt like, living with him. If he felt like he was locked in a closet and he’d been screaming for help and to be let out but no one came, Dave didn’t _have_ a mother to rescue him.

Sitting in an empty house, too tired to be angry but still too angry to let it go, he found himself wondering if it made him a good or a bad person to be angry at Dave.

Isn’t that how he was supposed to react? Anger? He doesn’t have this parenting thing down, never did from the start, but this is how it was done, right? Wait them out, until they eventually came slinking back to lick their wounds?

He was doing it right, or was he.. always wrong?

Biting into his lip, in a rare show of hesitance and just plain uncertainty, Bro pulled out his phone and typed into the search bar.

_“What is the difference between abuse and discipline?”_

The first thing that came up with a hotline for domestic violence and but the next link down seemed like a better option. 

He read until it made him a little sick to keep reading. Not because any of what he saw was sickening, but because he found himself comparing too much to his own life and to how he treated _Dave_ and the realization that he was wrong paled in comparison to the world-shattering reality of all that he was. 

* * *

“Hey, Dave, wanna-“ John went to place a hand on Dave’s shoulder and before he knew it, his world was tilting and he was on the floor, pinned.

He hadn’t even seen Dave move.

“Whoa! Dude!” John flailed, a little scared. He knew all about Dave’s training, but he’d never been on the receiving end of it. 

The albino was surprisingly strong for being so slight and frail-looking.

It took Dave a second to realize what he’d done, and he let John go, jumping away from with his hands clasped together in front of him. 

“Oh shit- dude, are you okay? I didn’t.. Fuck.” John could see the panic building on his face, his eyebrows drawing up high above his shades as he pushed his white hair back from his forehead, gripping it tight.

“Hey! Dave, it’s okay, it’s fine. I just scared you-“ John chuckled nervously, eyes darting between Dave’s face and his hands as he scrambled to his feet.

“Just..” John slowly approached Dave and placed his hands over Dave’s, grasping them gently. He was close enough that he could see Dave’s eyes from behind his shades, they were wide and panicked. “Stop hurting yourself..” John pried Dave’s hands away from his hair, wincing at the strands of white that followed with them. 

“I hurt you.” Dave muttered under his breath and John quickly shook his head, soothing his hands up and down Dave’s arms. 

“You didn’t hurt me, Dave. You just scared me-“ John stopped and pursed his lips, looking away from his friend. 

Dave pulled away from John, taking a step away to put more space between them. Pushing his shades up, he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and shook his head.

“I’m so fucked up.”

* * *

“Just open up the fuckin’ application, fill out the form and you’ll be fine. Not that fuckin’ hard.” Bro grumbled to himself, staring down at his phone. 

He was still trying to get the guts to look at himself in the mirror, makes himself sick and he can’t pity himself. He sure as hell didn’t pity _his_ abusers, so why would he pity himself?

So, he was making a counseling appointment. Apparently, according to all those websites, this was the _appropriate_ next step.

_Apparently,_ he was projecting his past trauma and abuse onto Dave in place of real parenting. 

Whatever that meant. 

Filling out the form, Bro cringed at the use of his first name. 

Maybe he should call Dave, he should check on him to let him know that he did care that he was gone, that he only wanted to do right by him. 

Trained him so that no one could ever hurt him or take advantage of him, kept him at an arm’s length because he didn’t want Dave to be weighed down anyone, himself included.

Emotions, Bro had learned, could be the death of a person. 

He wasn’t projecting _shit,_ he was keeping Dave safe. However, even as he thought this, it felt like some flimsy excuse. 

* * *

When Dave was younger, he’d crawl into bed with his Bro because he had nightmares full of falling and fire. Even half asleep, Bro would open up his arms and pull him into bed.

It just stopped one night when Dave was six, Bro’s bedroom door was locked and he hadn’t slept in bed with him since, he faced all those nightmares himself. 

As he got older, the nightmares slowed to a stop, and Bro had pushed him away, emotionally cut off from the one person he was around every single day. 

In turn, Dave started to keep himself away, even when there was nothing that he wanted more than to even get a _hug_ from his brother, it wasn’t like he smiled at him anymore. 

It made watching John and his father hard, how openly affectionate and loving they were with one another. 

A ruffle of hair here, a hand on the shoulder there, even a kiss to the forehead before James left for work. 

It eventually started to seep to Dave, uncomfortably enough. Before James left, he’d go down the line, each of them are given a kiss to the forehead before he leaves for work. 

Dave was self-admittedly touch starved. Hugs and kisses weren’t given out in the Strider household. The most Bro touched him was to patch him up, and half of the time, Dave ended up doing that himself.

“Sorry, Dave!” John’s voice pulled him from his thoughts and he glanced over, watching John rearrange himself on the couch. “Dad probably didn’t even realize.”

“It’s whatever, it’s uh, he’s cool.” Dave grumbled, hoping he came across as calm and collected, unruffled by a little affection but he knew that he wasn’t succeeding. 

“I can tell him to stop if you don’t like it.” John offered, biting his lip as he continued to change positions. Dave knew that he wouldn’t stop moving until he got comfortable. 

“It’s not that I didn’t like it, it’s just..” Dave sighed, pushing his shades up so that John could see his eyes. As bright and red as they were, they seemed dull with emotion.

“Bro doesn’t give me forehead kisses or hugs and shit. You and your dad are so.. I don’t know, real? A hell of a lot more real than me and my Bro, that’s for sure. No use for irony or cool shit, just.. Real.” 

John stared into Dave’s bright red eyes, he could see the way his eyes were full of vulnerability, flickering between anger and exasperation.

Scooting closer, John put his arms around Dave’s shoulder. The albino flinched, like he was expected John to hurt him and his friend closed his eyes tightly, pulling Dave into a hug. He buried his face into Dave's neck, ignoring the sting of his glasses digging into his face.

There was a brief moment where Dave didn’t react before John felt his arms tightly wrap around his waist, where he squeezed him hard like he was trying to put all that pain he was feeling into it. He hugged him like if he squeezed tight enough, it would all be so much better when the hug stopped. 

* * *

“Dirk Strider?” The therapist was a small man with windswept black hair and bright green eyes, shorter than Bro by about a head, he had a kind smile. 

Bro gave him a nod as he stood up, handing him the small self-assessment paper he was given by the receptionist.

“Thank you, it’s nice to meet you, I’m Jake.” They shook hands and Jake led him to the room.

It was a small room, with three chairs, a computer desk and a desk in-between the two chairs pushed against the wall, a box of tissues set on it. 

“Please, sit wherever you feel comfortable.” Jake offered and watched as Bro picked the one across from his own. Even with his casual nature, he could see the tenseness in his shoulders.

Sitting down, Jake looked down at the assessment paper. 

The name _Bro Strider_ was scrawled in neat and legible cursive, followed by his preferred pronouns, and Jake kept his face carefully blank but open enough to not make Bro question him as he came to sexuality that had the word ‘gay’ written that was crossed out with the word ‘straight’ beside it.

In the ‘reason for coming’ space, the words caught Jake a little off guard. 

_To stop being a bad person._

Written with finality, he was sure of himself. 

Looking up, Jake smiled a little as he placed the paper on the desk beside him. 

“Do you prefer Bro?” He asked as an opener and he saw the man’s eyebrow twitch in question before he nodded slowly.

“N’one really calls me Dirk.” He answered, voice thick with a Texan accent, and Jake smiled a little. His voice had an air of disuse, as if he rarely spoke but with forced slowness, enough to make you listen but quick enough so that he wouldn’t be talked over or cut off. 

_Was he abused?,_ Jake wondered, _it’s fairly common for abused kids to see themselves as bad people once they hit adulthood, or earlier. The way he talks, it’s skittish._

  
  


“I have a question, about your assessment, if you don’t mind me asking.” 

Bro tilted his head a little, nodding for him to continue speaking.

“You don’t have to answer this, but has your sexuality always felt to be a point of discomfort to you?”

A quick lick of the lips, rearranged himself to sit up straighter in the chair, effortless, a distraction. 

“Nah, s’not a pro’lem.” He replied casually, and Jake just nodded. 

Even with his eyes hidden behind those shades, Jake could tell that he was staring at him, assessing him in a similar nature of what Jake was doing to him.

“You married?” Bro asked and Jake smiled despite himself, nodding as he looked down at the ring on his hand.

“Yes! My husband and I have been married for three years now.” 

The tenseness in his shoulders was back and Jake had seen this before, but never so in denial. 

“Well, congratulations.” 

“Thank you.”

Jake had his work cut out for him. 

* * *

It was Dave who broke and called first, had worked himself into a panic so many times that he physically couldn’t handle the not knowing anymore.

He had excused himself to the back patio, ignoring the twin looks of worry being given to him by the Egberts. (John looked so much like his father that Dave wondered if his mom had anything to do with this whole arrangement besides carrying him for nine months.) 

The phone rang twice, and then it was picked up and Dave knew that _Bro_ knew who it was the moment he hit answer and it was silent and Dave could hear the rustling of clothes on the other side of the phone, his heart felt like it was racing and why wasn’t Bro saying _anything,_ and he was going to yell wasn’t he and-

_“Dave, stop breathin’ so fast before ya pass the hell out.”_

Dave felt his breathing start to slow, without his permission and now he wondered if he always followed Bro’s directions and the things he said without question.

He knew that the answer was _yes_ and he knew that he really shouldn't do that. 

“You didn’t call.” Dave replied once he could breath easily and he didn’t feel like Bro was going to yell at him. 

It wasn’t as if Bro had ever raised his voice at him before, he typically let his sword do the talking but the pure _disappointment_ in his voice was even too much. 

_“You didn’t wan’ me t’ call, otherwise ya’ wouldn’t have left in the first place.”_

Even over the phone with the crackle of static, Bro’s thick accent brought a mixed drink of calm and panic to Dave’s heart. 

“Just because I called you doesn’t mean I’m gonna come back.” Dave forced out, wrapping an arm around his middle, curling in on himself. 

There was a brief moment of silence on the phone before Bro replied, a little softer and calmer than Dave expected.

_“I know.”_

Dave frowned but nodded to himself even though Bro couldn’t see it. 

_“Why’d you call? I know you don’ wanna talk.”_

Bro had always been overwhelmingly perceptive of Dave, in that weird way that can only be associated with parents and not big brothers but Bro had always been Dave’s mother and father and brother. 

“Wanted to know if you were mad at me.” Dave gritted out, hating how easily he came out and said it but know that it wasn’t like Bro could do anything from that far away. 

_“I was. Not anymore. Wanted to strife yer li’l ass for pullin’ tha’ shit.”_

Dave stayed quiet as he spoke, he was waiting the other shoe to drop and for Bro to say that he didn’t want him anymore, that he should have never saved him.

_“I get it though. Yer gunna have to come back before the start of school.”_

That was three months, he wasn’t making him come back and he wasn’t disowning him either.

Dave felt like he was missing a piece of this puzzle. 

* * *

“Do you have any family, Bro?” Jake asked, carefully watching his face. “You can feel free to not answer that.”

Bro tilted his head very slightly to the side before he answered.

“I have a brother. More like a son really, been raising him since he was five months old. His name’s Dave.”

Jake’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked back at Bro from the paper he was looking at, writing some of the information down. 

“And how old were you when this happened?” 

He watched Bro’s eyebrows furrow a little before he answered. 

“I was 17.”

Jake sat up a little, focusing a little more on Bro as he asked his next question. “How did you feel having to raise Dave at 17? Did something happen to your parents?” 

Bro ran a hand through his hair, it was a nervous tic that Jake had pegged on his third day, when he was uncomfortable but forcing himself to keep speaking. 

“Yer mistaken,” The blond started, dropping his hands into his lap, staring at the floor. 

“I _found_ Dave. Parents abandoned him in a dumpster, I went and raised him until I could do what I had to to adopt him. Almost didn’t get him.. It was hard, _real_ hard but tha’ kid.. Glad I decided to do what I did for him.” 

A little smile twitched onto Bro’s face before he forced it down.

“Where’s Dave now?” The question flipped a switch, and Bro’s face carefully blanked. Jake almost thought that he wouldn’t respond, wondering if he’d found the wall in which Bro would shut down but he forced the words out.

“Up in Washin’ton. Ran away to go with a friend o’ his.” 

“He ran away? Are you taking measures to get him back?” Jake asked, worry seeping into his voice. He didn’t imagine that Dave could have been too old, not old enough to go all the way to Washington on his _own._

He found himself once again hating those shades for hiding most of Bro’s face from his watchful and observing eye. 

“Nah, he needs it.” 

“He needs it? Does Dave’s running away have any effects on you being here?” 

Finally, Jake got a reaction. A subtle twitch of the hand, he can bet that Bro wasn’t looking at him anymore either. 

“Dirk.” The heat of his gaze could be felt through the shades, and Jake swallowed slowly. He couldn’t imagine being pinned under that look without some sort of obstruction. 

“You said that you didn’t want to be a bad person. What do you think makes you bad?” He was asking the question that he feels like he should be asking weeks into therapy, there’s so many layers of pain and coldness to this man, the fact that he’s raising a child (who he either thinks of fondly or doesn’t talk about at all), it’s worrying how quickly the two switch. 

“I think I’ve been doing it all wrong.” He started, licking his lips. 

Having abusers sit across from him was something that he was used to, and Jake was in no place to judge them, he was solely there to help. However, having an abuser who saw the wrongness in their actions, or at least the _idea_ that it was wrong, was a rarity.

Glancing at the clock to gauge how much time they have left, Jake looked back at Dirk.

Twenty minutes.

It would be a start. 

* * *

  
“Fuck you, Bro! It’s not fair and you motherfucking know it!” 

Dave’s loud swearing shocked James out of his reverie, gripping the icing spoon in his hand tightly for a moment before he put it down and peeked into the living room where the other was.

“No! What about me, huh? You messed me up, you fucked me up _real bad_ and I don’t- I don’t care that I’m not there, whose fault is _that?”_ There was a pause as Dave listened to his brother for a moment before Dave spoke again.

His voice was so blank and cold, it made James uncomfortable that he could go from so emotional to nothing at all. 

“Yes. No. I don’t want to talk to you. Bye.” 

When Dave hung up, he took his shades off and buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking minutely. 

“David?” James stepped fully into the room and Dave jolted a little, wiping his eyes and putting his shades back into place before turning to the older man. 

His cheeks were still red and flushed, wet with tear tracks. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, stepping closer, careful to make it obvious that he was about to touch him before he gently guided him to the couch. They sat beside each other, Dave carefully angling himself away from James, staring into his lap.

He stayed quiet, occasionally sniffling and wiping his nose.

“Bro called,” He started and then stopped, backtracking. “You already fucking knew that, I’m sorry.” 

James pursed his lips at the apology but nodded for him to continue. 

“I guess he realized that he uhm, wasn’t the best parent and now he’s getting therapy or some sh- something and I don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand?”

“I don’t understand why he doesn’t care about me, or- or why he doesn’t want me _back,_ or if he even wanted me.” Dave was rambling, dropping in a downward spiral.

“And I get it, shit was rough for him but shit’s been rough for me too, don’t I need some damn help too?” 

James took a moment to think about everything that Dave just told him, brushing a lock of dark hair behind his ear. 

“I think that you do deserve help, David. You’ve been through a lot and it has had an effect on you and your mental state. As a social worker, I find myself to be biased when it comes to abusers because I’ve seen a lot over the years. One thing I’ll tell you is that you don’t have to forgive him, no matter how much help he gets and how much he may change. Your hurt is yours exclusively and no one can take that pain from you.”

Dave pushed his shades up to look at James, eyebrows drawn up. 

“But if he changes.. Where does that leave me?” 

“I’d like to think that if your brother has come to enough to realize where he’s gone wrong and that he needs help, he’ll realize that you need help too.”

Dave stared down into his lap again, twining his fingers together before unlocking them and repeating it over and over. 

_Is he stimming?,_ James asked himself, but Dave was speaking before he could examine that further. 

“I want to believe that my brother can be a good person, I know that he _used_ to be good to me, but he’s.. I don’t know. He’s different.” 

“Do you want your old brother back?”

“Do I want the brother who won’t tell me how disappointed he is in me or strife me and the brother who hugged me still? God, I’d kill for that. I want _my_ brother back and,” His voice cracked, and he clasped his hands tightly together. 

“I miss my brother, James. I miss who he was and he isn’t that person anymore.” 

Dave was outwardly crying now, tears dripping down his cheeks as he furiously attempted to stop them. He wiped at his cheeks repeatedly, but the tears kept coming.

Slowly, and gently, James put an arm around Dave’s shoulder and pulled him close. 

His hands gripped James’ shirt and he hid his face in it, briefly worried about ruining it with tears and snot, but the other didn’t seem to care. 

Shushing him gently and swaying them side to side, James rubbed up and down the middle of his back. Dave gripped him hard and it was _heartbreaking._

“You’re always welcome here, David. For as long as you need.” 

* * *

  
Bro wanted to argue, he wanted to fucking _scream_ and pull out his hair. Dave was difficult, always _difficult,_ but.. 

  
  


“He ain’t wrong,” Bro told Jake, shades lifted a little to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I really fucked him up. Trained him and left him when he needed me.”

“When he needed you?”

“When Dave was six I stopped letting him sleep in bed with me.”

“Most parents start earlier, he slept with you longer than most.” Jake started but Bro shook his head.

“ _Most_ parents, but not Dave. The doctors told me he’d always be a little more.. Attached than most kids since he was abandoned so early on. And he was, ‘could barely leave for work and it wasn’t like he wanted anyone else to watch him.”

“Ah.. Bro, have you considered bringing Dave in as well? It’s not impossible that I could counsel both of you, despite not being a family therapist. Both together, and separately, of course.” 

“You could?” He moved his hand from his face and Jake smiled a little, glad that he got a positive reaction.

“Of course, we can plan it right now.”

* * *

“Come on, son, hand me the batter- what’s wrong?” James asked, unaware of what he’d called Dave who was holding the bowl and giving him what he could guess was a searching look.

He’d be able to read him a lot easier without those shades on. 

“Oh, uh, yeah, James.” He handed it to the man, and got a warm, fatherly smile in return. 

John was so damn lucky. 

Speak of the devil, John meandered into the kitchen, giving the cake batter a little glare but otherwise ignoring it to hand Dave his phone.

“Your Bro called, said he wanted to talk to you. Wanted to talk to you too, Dad.”

“You have Broderick’s number?”

“You talked to my Bro?”

Dave and James spoke simultaneously, glancing at each other before looking back at John who seemed to be holding back a little snicker. 

“Yeah, he actually called your phone and I was going to threaten him for making you cry or whatever but then he.. I don’t know, I think apologizing, it was really weird but after that he said he wanted you two. He’s still on the phone actually.” 

John held up the phone to show the call that was still going and Dave held his hand out, taking the phone back.

He clicked it on speaker and spoke loud enough for everyone in the kitchen to hear. The oven gently opened and shut behind him. 

“Hey, Bro.” 

_“Sup, li’l man.”_

John and James’ eyebrows shot up when they heard Bro’s voice. His accent was thicker than Dave’s, who didn’t really sound very Texan unless he played it up or got emotional, like a few days ago. 

“What do you want?” He cut to the chase quickly, unsure of if the conversation would quickly devolve into another argument. 

_“Yeah, yer still pissed, I get it. ‘M sorry about that, didn’t mean to make ya so mad about it.”_

Dave didn’t respond to the apology, hackles raised when he heard it. Bro never apologized, not directly, in any case. 

_“Jake, the therapist, wanted to pr’pose somethin’ to ya.”_

There was some shuffling and then another voice was speaking. It was a soft and melodic voice, softly accented, though it was one Dave had never encountered before. 

_“Hello, Dave! I’m Jake, it’s nice to finally be able to speak with you! I’ve heard quite a bit about you. Now, I’ll be quick since I’m sure you’re busy at the moment but I’ve recently talked to your brother about counseling the_ both _of you, seeing as he’s your guardian and you’re still a minor in his care. However, since you aren’t_ technically _in his care at the moment, if you’d consent to going through with therapy, both joint and private, I would need the consent of the adult whose care you are currently in.”_

Dave paused, going to speak before he paused again and cleared his throat. 

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Dave glanced at James, who was giving him a smile as he stepped up beside him and spoke.

“Hello, I’m James Egbert, I’m the adult whose care David is in. I fully support the idea of him going through counseling with you, though I have to ask, would this entail him having to leave? I was under the impression that he would be here for the rest of the summer.”

_“No worries there, I know about the current situation and while it isn’t entirely the way I would have planned it, we can have private video call sessions until he returns for the school year.”_

As they talked and smoothed over everything, Dave almost hung up before Bro spoke.

_“Love ya, Dave. Don’t give Egbert any trouble.”_

He hung up before Dave could respond, he must have known that he wouldn’t have said it back. That didn’t stop the warmth from filling up his chest even though he wasn’t sure if he hated it or liked it. 

“Congratulations, Dave!”

“Yeah, congrats, dude! Therapy is good. It’s a little hard but uh, it helps.” John had a nervous smile on his face and Dave raised an eyebrow.

“You’re in therapy?”

“Yeah, my mom.” John didn’t expand and Dave didn’t ask, just threw an arm around his shoulder and drew him into a quick side hug before he pocketed his phone.

He missed the proud smile James shot both of the boys way. 

* * *

  
The first video appointment felt a little weird, not quite settled. 

The camera was a little blurry, but John was letting him use his computer and he had left downstairs to give him some privacy.

Jake looked so much like John, it was almost uncomfortable. If it wasn’t for his green eyes and age, Dave wouldn't have been able to tell the difference. 

“Hi, Dave!”

“Hey.” He shuffled a little, glad that there was a computer and shades separating them. 

“Normally, there’s a form that you’d fill out so that I had some information but since you don’t, I’ll read them off,” He held up a paper for Dave to see. “And you don’t have to answer any of the ones that make you uncomfortable.”

Dave nodded and Jake smiled a little as he cleared his throat and began to read.

“Okay, I already know your name and age, so, what are your preferred pronouns?” 

“Uh, he, I guess but..” He flicked a stray lock of his face and shrugged. “Not always sure.”

“And that’s alright, whatever you feel comfortable with calling yourself is alright. You can always feel free to do research as well, or you can ask me, I have a lot of excellent resources for gender identity.”

Dave felt a breath of relief at the positive words, unsure of why he thought he would have received a bad reaction. 

_Would Bro react badly?_

“Okay, sexuality? Remember, you don’t have to answer these.”

“It’s cool, I’m pretty sure I’m Pan though.” 

Jake nodded and looked down at the paper again.

“Okay, these are some pretty sensitive ones. First one, have you ever been abused? This includes physical, emotional, sexual and mental abuse.” 

Dave gripped his hands together in his lip and bit into his lip, pausing. He knew that Jake couldn’t tell Bro any of this, he knew that this was personal and he could only tell if Dave was in imminent danger. 

“Physical and emotional, I think. Should I know?” He asked before he could stop himself and Jake shook his head slowly.

“It’s okay, it’s common for those who’ve been abused to not realize they’ve been abused or to not know what the specifics of their abuse if it’s been implemented as a form of discipline.” 

Dave nodded and Jake went on.

“Have you experienced any thoughts of suicide in the past month or have you made a plan?” 

Dave went quiet and Jake looked up, eyebrows furrowing a little before Dave spoke. 

“Not for a while but..” 

“You’ve thought about it before?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you currently contemplating any form of self-harm?”

“Nah, man.”

Jake nodded and they finished up the last few questions.

“Last one. What do you hope to get out of therapy?”

Dave looked into the camera, and Jake tilted his head a little.

“I just want to know why my brother doesn’t love me anymore.” 

* * *

“I thought I could be good, I thought I could be good enough for my brother and I could make him proud of me.”

Fourth session and Jake had worked the tears out of him and Dave hated it. 

He wasn’t like Bro, he couldn’t hold his emotions in his chest until they were nonexistent. He felt everything a little too hard, a little too deep, he felt _so much._

The emotions were always building, he was different from his brother even when he was trying his hardest to be like him. 

“You are good, Dave, and I think that you’ve been trying so hard to be like your brother that you haven’t had time to be like yourself. This isn’t to say that you don’t have your own personality and quirks, it just means that you’re hiding them behind a facade. 

“I know a lot about you and your brother separately which is why our joint session will help us bridge that gap so that you two can further understand each other and you can both heal. Your feelings and how you feel towards your brother is valid, and it is healthy to let that out so that you can further heal.”

Dave pushed his shades up, and wiped his eyes, sniffling.

“Thanks, man.”

“Of course. Have you spoken to Dirk about any of this?” 

Dave shook his head and Jake expected the answer. From his sessions with the brothers, he could tell that they tended to hold their cards to their chests, never willing to let the other get even a glimpse of their hand. 

“I don’t think he’d listen. He’d probably just tell me I’m being a bitch or something. Striders don't _do_ feelings, even ironic ones.” 

“You should learn how to. You aren’t a bitch for speaking up about your feelings and as long as it’s talked out healthily, you’re handling things well.” 

“Really?”

“Of course, I’m sure you’ve noticed it with John and his father, right?”

Dave shrugged as he thought about how open John and James were with each other. It wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility that they talked not argued. 

“Our session is coming to a close but here’s some homework. Whenever you’re feeling wronged or mistreated, and it’s safe, you should try speaking up about it. See you later, Dave.”

“Later, Jake.”

The catharsis that came from each session was one that Dave found both light and heavy, as he sniffed and wiped away the drying tears on his face. 

_It will get better,_ Dave thought as he stood from the chair and stretched, _it will get better because I can’t handle anymore bad._

* * *

“Bye, Dave! I hope you can visit again soon.” John pulled Dave into a hug and buried his face into the taller boy’s neck. Dave chuckled softly as he hugged the other boy back, smiling into his hair.

He ignored the stares he felt like they were getting for being so close and how long their hug was lasting. Letting John go, he gave his shoulders and brief squeeze before he let go and turned to James, who was smiling at him. 

“Come here, son.” James hugged the albino hard and tight, it was comforting and Dave practically melted into it. 

It had a fatherly warmth, that John’s wasn’t able to replicate. 

“I’m gonna miss y’all but, here’s to hoping I can come back and my bro won’t mind.” Dave told them once the hug was over. 

“Yeah, here’s to hoping. Dave?”

“Yeah, John?”

His friend’s eyes were starting to water and he laughed a little at himself.

“I love you, man. And you know that you can always come back.”

“I love you too, John, thanks for letting me stay, both of y’all.”

Dave tilted his head in a nod, this one much more comfortable than the one James had seen months ago. 

“Be careful, Dave.” James smiled, and Dave wondered if this was why people hated goodbyes, when you really cared about a person, and there was so much space between you, you wanted it to last forever. 

  
  


The plane ride was smooth, it would have lulled Dave to sleep if he wasn’t so full of pent-up nervous energy of seeing Bro for the first time in nearly four months.

They’d talked a little over the phone, but he was strained. They forced casualness and used irony and coolness as a barrier.

There would be no phone and thousands of miles between them now.

  
  


Bro looked a little more tired, Dave observed, and a little more open too. He didn’t openly have an expression on his face but it wasn’t completely blank, not how Dave was used to.

_Open._

“Hey, Dave.” Bro reached out to touch him and Dave flinched a little, cursing at himself softly for it, but Bro just dropped his hand to his side and nodded in understanding.

“You enjoy yer trip?” 

Dave nodded, adjusting his bag. 

“Yeah, John and his dad are pretty cool.” Bro nodded and tilted his head towards the exit.

“Let’s try ‘nd get out with the rush, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

  
  


The silence between them was tangible, not that there was always flowing conversation between them, but not it was noticed, it was _uncomfortable._

“Fuck.” Bro muttered as he drove and he looked at Dave, pushing his shades up on his head. 

“Dave-“

“Not right now, I’m tired and jet lagged, and I want to.. I want to wait. Give me a little.”

He was expecting Bro to push, to give him that disappointed frown but instead he took it in stride, nodded and put his shades back.

“Okay.” His voice was even and open, understanding. 

“Okay.” 

Dave’s room was clean, free of dust and just as he’d left it all those months ago. It felt oddly nostalgic to be standing in his bedroom, feeling too big for the space.

He’s grown, not physically, but just enough to feel a little bit bigger and better as a person.

That made him smile to himself a little as he kicked his shoes off and threw his bag down, laying in his bed. The covers smelled recently washed, felt soft.

They didn’t have the smell of icing and batter that seemed to waft around the Egbert household and it was enough to make his chest tighten. 

Dave didn’t want to cry but, he was home now and it was almost overwhelming, not almost, it _was_ overwhelming. 

Hiding his face in the covers, Dave cried softly, for only a moment before the pressure behind his eyes and in his head lessened. 

He felt much better now.

He knew that months ago he would have forced the tears down, he would have felt terrible and angry at everything, all for a few tears.

Yes, he’d definitely grown. 

  
  


Even with the coming of their therapy session, both Bro and Dave knew that they needed to talk, privately, first. 

They gravitated to the living room at different intervals of time, until they were in one another’s space, quiet.

Dave couldn’t remember the last time they had sat in each other’s presence like this. They were both on their phones, sure, but it was more than they’d done before. 

“You ready?” Bro asked, looking at the younger blond. 

Dave looked at him and nodded, putting his phone aside to look at his brother. 

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

They dropped into silence after, it was awkward and uncomfortable and Dave couldn’t stop the little smile that came to his face. 

“We’re so bad at this.”

Bro’s lips twitched, like he was stopping a smile. “We really, really are. You want to start?”

“Uh, sure, yeah, uhm.” Dave took his shades off, but he didn’t look Bro in the eye, preferring to stare over his shoulder. Bro followed suit, putting them on equal standing.

“I.. I don’t even know what to say that I haven’t talked to Jake about already. I, fuck.. Bro, I thought you hated me, like, I’m not even entirely sure that you don’t and you’re just pretending to want me here with you.”

Bro’s eyes widened a little, but he didn’t interrupt, he let him _speak._

“And uh, I tried so hard to be like you because I wanted you to love me and you never told me or showed me, I just..” Dave’s eyes were getting red, his eyes getting teary. 

“I just want you to love me, ya know?” 

Bro looked away and Dave wipes at his eyes.

“Dave, I have loved you since the moment I found you.” He always told him he found him in a dumpster, he wasn’t sure how to break it to him that he was in a smoking crater. 

“And I.. Know you don’t believe me, so I won’t try to make you, as much as I want you to. I have never once regretted having you here and in my life.” 

Dave nodded, staring into his lap, twining and unlocking his fingers repeatedly. 

“I wish I hadn’t done any of what I’ve done, but I can wish all I want and it won’t change anything which is why I’m trying to change things right now, before it’s too late and I lose you.” 

Bro hated the stinging behind his eyes, but he didn’t force it down, he had to let himself be as real as he could be, because he wanted Dave to know just how true his words were. 

He knew that he might not believe it _now,_ in that moment, but he hoped one day that he would. 

“I thought I was protecting you from the life I had growing up, but I did it all wrong.”

“Protect me from what, Dirk?” Dave hissed, looking at his eyes for a quick second before he was looking away again. 

“What could I possibly have needed protection from?”

Bro blinked, the question catching him off guard. What _was_ he protecting Dave from? 

It wasn’t like he was in foster homes, or he went out a lot. He didn’t have a mother or a father who would hurt him, so who _was_ Bro protecting him from?

It seemed like that was another falsity. 

In his instinct to protect, it he had been trying to keep his own, long dead monsters away from the boy he was entrusted with. 

“Oh.. I..”

Dave had never seen his brother express emotions that weren’t vague irritation or anger, and to see him cry, well, it finally made him feel human. 

It wasn’t loud sobbing, just tears as he sniffled and wiped them away.

“I’m so sorry, Dave, I’m so fucking sorry. That doesn’t fix _shit_ about what I did to you, but I’m sorry.” 

Dave had wanted to hear those words for so long, he’d forgotten when the want had started. To hear them, to see their truth in his brother’s voice, it was all he had _wanted._

“I know, Bro.. I know. I can’t accept that right now though.” He bit back the want to apologize.

There was a brief flash of pain across Bro’s face that was followed by understanding as he nodded.

“I know.”

Dave wiped his eyes again and looked around as they fell into silence before he scooted a little closer to Bro, laid his head on his arm. 

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

Dave shrugged a little. “For trying.” 

“We’re going to be tryin’ for a long time, I ain’t finished, and you aren’t either.” Bro replied, easing into having Dave so close after nine years of barely touching each other. 

His brother smiled, just a quick little quirk of the lips.

“Guess we can try together.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and feel free to comment, or if you’d like, you could talk to me on my blog turntech-lovethis!


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